


from the beginning

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, Fem Keith, Fem Shiro, First Meetings, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Parent Death, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Secret Crush, Sheith Month, pre-kerberos, shiro realizes her feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-09 22:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11678220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Does it even count as a rivalry when the two people involved have been vying for top stop of a list without ever having met? Isn’t it more of a friendly competition? Shiro thought the Galaxy Garrison Aeronautical College encouraged that kind of behavior. “Competition develops character and pushes you to perform beyond your best.” and all that jazz.--30 days of fem sheith for sheith month





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Sheith month, I'd wanted to do fem sheith so here I am. The goal is to write a cohesive-ish story using the 30 days prompts. Let's see how it goes eh?
> 
> At the end, I'll compile everything into a few chapters instead of 30.
> 
> The rating will _probably_ go up in the future.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Nonis & Synne. Viva le fem sheith y'all

There’s a faint twinge of childish resentment in her heart when Iverson asks her to take Kogane under her wing.

 

“I know you two have been in competition over who stays on top of the leader board for over two weeks now,” the man tells her, sharp gaze looking for any tells Shiro may be giving off. She keeps her body stiff as a board in her seat across from the officer, expression placid, and gaze level with Iverson. “You’re already aware of how talented Kogane is. She’s leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of the class. So the board as decided to put on her an accelerated track. You’ll be her tutor and mentor, helping her go through two years of curriculum in a year.”

 

 _That_ makes Shiro’s poker face crack. If that’s the case, that will put Kogane only a few months behind herself. Does that mean she’ll become an officer around the same time Shiro will too? Will they be asked to pilot missions together because of how good they are?

 

 _Don’t put the horse before the cart Shirogane,_ she tells herself as she nods at Iverson. “Understood, sir.”

 

Iverson shoots her a sharp gaze that makes Shiro hold her breath. “And no more of this rivalry business between you. I want you two working _together_. Not competing against each other.”

 

Does it even count as a rivalry when the two people involved have been vying for top stop of a list without ever having met? Isn’t it more of a friendly competition? Shiro thought the Galaxy Garrison Aeronautical College _encouraged_ that kind of behavior. “Competition develops character and pushes you to perform beyond your best.” and all that jazz.

 

But still. An order is an order. Shiro nods once again. She’s about to ask when she’s expected to meet Kogane when Iverson’s intercom beeps softly. The officer presses a button and asks, “Yes?”

 

“Cadet Kogane is here, sir.”

 

“Send her in.”

 

A thread of excitement sneaks its way into Shiro. While they’ve been in competition with each other “officially” for two weeks, Shiro had been told many stories about the “new freshman that’s been breaking records left and right.” Kogane was a firecracker, incredible in her academics but socially reclusive, and very much in love with flying. Students whispered that she would replace Shiro soon enough if she kept her performance up. But Shiro hadn’t paid it any mind, not until K. Kogane had taken over her spot in twelve of the more difficult simulations the cadets were made to go through as part of their flight training.

 

As Kogane knocks on the door connecting the secretary’s office with Iverson’s, Shiro finds herself sitting up.

 

“Enter.”

 

The door creaks open. Shiro leans forward in her seat. She’s taken aback by the color of the eyes that meet her gaze. They’re the exact color of a clear night sky - a blue so deep you could drown in it. Shiro lets out a surprised exhale when Kogane looks away, turning to Iverson to politely ask, “You sent for me, sir?”

 

“Sit down, cadet.”

 

Keith moves swiftly but powerfully. Her movements are graceful but Shiro gets the sense she’s got too much energy itching away under her skin. But none of that is reflected in Kogane as she sits in the seat next to Shiro, back ramrod straight and eyes on Iverson. As the officer repeats what he’s just told Shiro, _she_ takes the opportunity to study Kogane.

 

She’s got her hair tied up in a low ponytail. There's a shagginess to it that makes Shiro think that either Kogane’s trying to grow out a bad haircut or this is a weird two layer haircut. She’s got a pretty profile thought - shapely nose, high cheek bones, oval face. All in all, Kogane is a beauty.

 

 _She’s kind of my type_ , a voice muses in the back of Shiro’s head. She slams a door on that voice, feeling like a kid caught trying to steal a cookie out of the cookie jar when Kogane’s eyes suddenly turn to her.

 

“Cadet Shirogane here has already agreed to be your mentor,” Iverson is staying, clearly ignoring the intense staring contest going on between the girls. “She’ll help you cover the curriculum of your freshmen _and_ sophomore year. If you manage to successfully do so before next fall, then you both will be paired up to complete the junior and senior years within the next 18 months.”

 

It’s daunting when Iverson puts it like that but Shiro sees nothing but greedy eagerness in Kogane’s bright gaze. It’s chilling and exciting at the same time to see Kogane’s controlled enthusiasm. A part of her understands now why Kogane’s kept challenging her for her top spot. She wants to be the best. Shiro can not only respect that, but she also understand that.

 

She smiles at the way Kogane’s voice trembles faintly as she says, “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

 

“Good luck to both of you.”

 

They rise as one, snapping sharp salutes to the officer before stepping out of the room. As soon as the door is closed, Kogane lets out a huge exhale as she touches her chest. Shiro assumes she’s trying to catch her breath but those slim fingers quickly open the top button with a relieved noise. Shiro laughs and mirrors the move, “It feels like someone’s got you in a choke hold, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” Kogane turns to her, dark eyes sweeping over Shiro with naked curiosity. The way Kogane’s eyes linger on her haircut makes Shiro want to run a self conscious hand over the buzzed sides. She’s still not totally confident about this cut but the hairdresser had said it’d suit her.

 

She forces her hands to remain by her side and not go up to take hold of her long ponytail and nervously twirl the ends around her fingertips. Instead, she holds her hand out towards Kogane. “I look forward to working with you Kogane. If you ever need anything, I’m here for you.”

 

Kogane accepts the gesture readily, connecting their palms in a firm, warm handshake that sends tingles racing up Shiro’s arm. “Yes, sir. I’m looking forward to it too.”

 

Shiro groans softly. “You don’t have to do that. Just call me Shiro. Everyone else does too.”

 

A skeptical eyebrow rises up. “Even the freshmen?”

 

“Yeah. I might be gunning to graduate early but I’m still a cadet like everyone else.”

 

Kogane nods slowly in understanding. “Call me Keith then.”

 

“Alright,” Shiro grins wickedly at the other girl. “Want to see who can get the highest score on mission 54?”

 

With a cocky smirk, Keith nods, “You’re on."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mention of parental death.

Keith’s been usually quiet today. Generally speaking she’s a quiet person but today there’s a sad pensive cloud hanging around her dark head that has Shiro worrying. For the first half of the day, she tells herself to wait. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’ll blow over. But an hour to dinner time and Keith’s only dug herself deeper into her morose mood.

 

Shooting a quick look around the common room where the cadets hang out, Shiro scoots her chair closer to Keith and quietly asks the question she’s been stopping herself from asking since Keith had walked up to her in the morning.

 

“Is everything okay, Keith?”

 

She shakes her head in answer, gaze still on the textbook whose page she hasn’t turned in ten minutes. “It’s nothing.”

 

Shiro gently touches Keith’s arm and says, with greater softness, “Keith. It’s  _ not  _ nothing. Something’s been bothering you all day. Can you please tell me?” 

 

Dark blue eyes rise to sweep over the crowded common room, hesitating so clearly that Shiro moves before she realizes it. She takes hold of Keith’s hand and leads her out of the large room, telling a classmate to keep an eye on their stuff. Keith stays a step behind, keeping up with Shiro’s fast pace even though she doesn’t know where they’re going.

 

Her heart aches at the trust Keith’s places in her. Earlier in their friendship, Keith would ask so many questions and inquire about Shiro’s strategies. She was constantly testing Shiro and her mettle, making sure that Shiro was worthy of being the Galaxy Garrison’s best. Of being Keith’s mentor.

 

But now, when Shiro says, “Let’s go.” Keith is more prone to following without question instead of asking a bunch of question. It’s humbling, to know that she’s earned Keith’s trust. It makes Shiro want to be a better friend for Keith. And it’s exactly that reason why that Shiro takes Keith to one of her favorite spots on campus. 

 

It’s a small patch of green behind Building #5 that very few people know about. It’s Shiro’s favorite place to go to and stargaze. Some of the fog that’s been hovering in the younger cadet’s gaze fades away once they arrive at their destination. 

 

She eyes their surroundings before asking, “What is this place?”

 

“My secret garden,” Shiro hopes Keith gets the reference. Given the faint smile that comes to Keith’s lips, she does. “I come here a lot to watch the stars, meditate, and just... get away from everyone. It can get pretty crowded in there.”

 

Somewhere deep in the desert, a coyote howls long and mournfully. Shiro sits down crossing her legs and turns to face Keith, who is absently twirling a long blade of grass between her fingers. She watches and waits for Keith to find her equilibrium, hoping that Keith will confide in her but ready for the opposite as well. 

 

A chilly breeze winds its way through the campus, weaving through the pathways they’ve made. The first hit of it makes Keith shiver and has her shifting closer to Shiro. The shameless casualness with which Keith attaches herself against Shiro’s side reminds the older cadet of her old housecat. 

 

Cookie was a big black cat they’d adopted from a shelter when Shiro was 9. He was a shameless creature who took what he wanted, when he wanted it. When Cookie was cold, he’d find the warmest spot in the house and plop himself on it or near it, with all the regal grace of nobility of felt like they’d  _ earned  _ the right to soak up heat.

 

Shiro turns to softly ask Keith, “Do you want my jacket?”

 

With a snort, Keith shakes her head. “I’m fine. I run hot anyways. Besides, that’s not a jacket. That’s a vest.”

 

“It’s still got to be warmer than wearing jeans and a tshirt,” Shiro points out, critically eyeing the short dark sleeves of Keith’s shirt.

 

But Keith shakes her head, mumbling, “I’m fine.” 

 

The melancholy in her voice implies otherwise. So much so that Shiro gingerly asks, “Are you? Really?”

 

Keith’s exhale is a long, slow thing that seems to drain her of what little energy she’d got left in her. Her dark head tips onto Shiro’s shoulder, blue eyes staring off into thin air. Tentatively, because this is a line they haven’t crossed before, Shiro wraps her arm around Keith’s shoulders and pulls her closer.

 

The other girls short shorn hair tickles the underside of Shiro’s jaw. She thinks amusedly of the morning last Monday where Keith had shown up for breakfast with a messy short cut that had made Shiro gape at her. When she’d asked why Keith had cut her hair short, the girl had shrugged. 

 

“Kept getting in the way.”

 

Shiro dips her head to the side, gently knocking their heads together. She’s  _ so  _ impossibly fond of Keith. It’s almost like-

 

“My foster dad called,” Keith says lowly. Blinking, Shiro is brought back to the present. Keith remains still by her side, unnaturally so. “He told me my foster mom died.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Keith.” 

 

Shiro pulls back, turning to look at Keith. But Keith’s off somewhere else, some place darker than this little shadowy corner of the Galaxy Garrison campus. She looks like a ghost from a horror movie - pale skin and dark hair accentuated. Her eyes close for a brief moment before she shakes her head, slow and deliberate. 

 

“Don’t be. She was an awful person. She made my life a living hell when I was staying with her.”

 

It’s the kind of statement most people would make with extreme bitterness. But Keith says it with an odd kind of resignation. Shiro tightens her grip on Keith’s shoulders, struggling with how she can comfort her friend more. Frustration and sadness fill as as Keith explains the kind of childhood she went through with her foster parents. 

 

“Whenever John would leave to work on the rig, she’d be as awful as she could be. Resentment I guess. Whatever her reasons, she made my life hell for  _ months _ . And it was no use trying to tell John because around him, she acted like the best foster mom ever.” 

 

Keith buries her face in Shiro’s jacket. She’s quiet for so long Shiro suspects she may have fallen asleep. Under her arm, Keith’s shoulder rise and fall with tiny hitches. Shiro doesn’t even think about the small wet spot that’s formed on her t-shirt. 

 

“Is it wrong that I don’t feel sad about this?” Keith asks in the softest of whispers.

 

Shiro’s fingers squeeze Keith’s shoulder as hard as they can. “No,” she rasps. “It’s not. It’s human.”

 

With an audible sniff, Keith throws her arms around Shiro and embraces her in an awkward but tight side hug. She returns the hug best as she can, whispering soft words of comfort which serve to deepen the shakes running through Keith. 

 

“It’s alright. It’s alright,” Shiro tells the other girl, stroking her short hair, rubbing her back, squeezing the nape of her neck. She holds Keith and wishes there was some way to absorb her pain into herself. Relieve Keith of this hurt. Hot tears burn behind her eyelids and she squeezes them out, hoping that Keith’s too caught up in her own feelings to pay attention. 

 

Keith’s the one to pull away, head bowed. Shiro struggles to hold down the urge to tenderly brush those thick bangs away so that he can see Keith’s expression. She fails, letting one hand rise up to smooth the tear stained hair away and stroke Keith’s cheek. 

 

Her heart skips a beat when Keith kittenishly turns her face into the touch. Shiro’s heart aches again, wondering how touch starved  _ is  _ Keith? How much affection has she been denied? How deeply has she sought human connection that she accepts it so willingly now?

 

Keith’s lips are dry against her palm, her sigh soft. “I’m okay,” the girl murmurs. Her eyes are filled with gratitude when she peeks up. There’s a lump the size of a toad jammed in her throat. Shiro tries to swallow it down but it doesn’t budge. It’s only when Keith looks away, breaking eye contact and returning to their original position of sitting next to to each other that Shiro can breathe again.

 

The next time Keith shivers, Shiro knows it’s because of the cold. She doesn’t hesitate this time and pulls her vest off. Shiro drapes it over Keith’s shoulders before Keith can argue otherwise. It’s not a good fit. Shiro’s, at best, two, maybe three sizes bigger than Keith, but her vest looks comically oversized on Keith’s petite frame. It’s endearing.

 

She shakes the thought out before gently asking, “Better?”

 

Keith’s hands curl into the dark vest with a small smile. “Yeah. I feel better.” She closes her eyes, rests her head back on Shiro’s shoulder and sighs quietly. “Thank you Shiro.”

 

“Anytime.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scars

Shiro’s hands slam against the open doorway, halting her mid-skid even as she breathlessly asks, “Keith?”

 

A student helper jumps in surprise, dropping a few rolls of gauze. They unravel with a few bounces, leaving trails of white behind them. The helper makes an annoyed noise, nose scrunching. “Dammit! I’m going to have to get new ones now.”

 

“Sorry,” Shiro apologizes, straightening her orange and white jacket as she steps into the clinic. “Is Keith here? Keith Kogane?”

 

The question earns her a blank look and a shrug. But from behind one of the curtained-off gurneys, a familiar voice calls out, “Shiro?”

 

With a relieved noise, Shiro heads towards the brunette’s voice. “Keith? Where are you?”

 

“Right here. Ow!”

 

If Shiro has to make a guess, she’d say the hiss has come from the third or fourth’s bed curtained off. She tries the third first, but a ginger-haired cadet is fast sleep. She quietly pulls the curtain back before moving to the next bed. She exhales in relief when she sees Keith wincing as she readjusts the ice pack she’s holding against her left cheek.

 

An endearment rests under her tongue at the woeful sight Keith makes. She’s holding a fat bundle of gauze against her forehead, an ice pack against her swollen left cheek, and she’s got a split lip. Shiro winces, stepping closer before pulling the curtain close.

 

“It looks worse than it is,” Keith tries to reassure her but Shiro shakes her head.

 

She shoots Keith a look, telling her she doesn’t believe her one bit. Shiro’s gotten her fair share of bruises. She remembers how badly a blow to the cheek can hurt and for how long. Keith wilts under the hard gaze, shoulders dropping. 

 

Her eyes move up and down Keith’s bare arms, searching for more bruises. But it looks like the only place she got hurt was her face. Shiro pushes Keith’s jacket aside before sitting down next to her friend. “What happened? I heard you got into a fight?”

 

“I was trying to  _ stop  _ a fight,” Keith sighs tiredly, rolling her shoulder to allay the stiffness there. Shiro notes the gestures and moves to hold the ice pack up against Keith’s cheek. Groaning thankfully, Keith lets her take over before using her free hand to massage her shoulder joint. “Thanks.”

 

“What happened? How’d you get hit then?”

 

“Never get between two guys in the middle of a dick measuring contest.”

 

Shiro can’t help but laugh a little at the dark way Keith says that. “Seriously?”

 

The other girl nods, turning so that she’s seated facing Shiro. One hand curls around her ankle, leg curled and flat against the bed. Her other foot dangle off the side of the gurney. Shiro tries not to think about the shiver that runs through her body when Keith’s boot taps against her calf. 

 

“Yeah. They were arguing about grades or something before they started fighting. A bunch of us jumped in to try and stop them.” Keith gestures at her cheek. “And got this for our troubles.”

 

Shiro’s eyes drop down to Keith’s lips, staring at the healed cut there for a beat too long before she murmurs, “Looks like you got hit a couple of times.”

 

She wants to touch the touch, run her fingers through Keith’s hair, check and make sure she isn’t hurt anywhere else. But Shiro’s self control holds. However, temptation rears its head in the form of Keith’s wicked smirk. 

 

“Don’t worry. I got a couple of hits in too,” Keith teases before wincing because the motion has pulled at her hurt lip. 

 

Shaking her head, Shiro exhales a weak laugh before looking up at the blood-soaked gauze Keith’s holding against her forehead. “And how’d  _ that  _ happen?”

 

“One of the guys was wearing a ring.”

 

She licks her lips before asking, “Mind if I take a look?”

 

Keith shrugs, lowering her hand. The gauze remains stuck to its place, doubtless due to the congealed blood. Shiro murmurs an apology as she carefully peels the material off. Her heart trips over itself when Keith pushes her hair back with a careless sweep and tilts her forehead towards Shiro, 

 

“What do you think? How bad is it?” 

 

Their eyes meet for a quick second before Shiro’s eyes dart away towards the wound. Shiro clears her throat, hoping that wasn’t awkward and that Keith didn’t catch anything in the look she hadn’t meant too. “It looks deep. It might scar.”

 

_ Which is a shame _ , Shiro can’t help but think as Keith makes a face, licking a thumb before using it to rub away some of the blood around the wound.  _ She’s so pretty. It’ll be a shame if she gets a scar on her face _ .

 

A split second too late, Shiro realizes what she’s just thought. Flustered, she tries to regroup, telling herself it’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s okay to think your friend is pretty, right? It’s not weird to constantly feel like wanting to lavish your best friend with tender affection.

 

Keith’s nose scrunches cutely as she eyes the dried blood on her thumb and Shiro hopelessly realizes, maybe it’s not nothing. Maybe it’s  _ something _ . 

 

“Well,” Keith starts with a wry little smile. “At least scars are badass. And it’s right next to my hairline. No one will know it’s there. Ow.”

 

Shiro stops Keith’s hand from touching the wound, lowering it gently before she asks, “It still hurts?”

 

“Only when I make a face.”

 

She can’t help but let out a breathless little laugh when Keith half-pouts before pulling an annoyed face which makes her wince in pain again. “Maybe you need to stop emoting this hard,” Shiro teases, gently applying pressure to the furrow between Keith’s eyebrows.

 

“Or you could help me.”

 

“Help you how?”

 

Keith gestures at her face. “You could do something to help with the pain. Kiss it and make it better or something.”

 

There’s a teasing quality to the request. The kind of tone they’ve been using with greater frequency around each other. It’s private and personal. And according to Matt,  _ flirtatious _ . Shiro hasn’t understood it at the time but... she does now.

 

The way Keith’s eyes sparkle at her, playful and teasing. The challenging quirk of her lips coupled with the open body language she’s directing at Shiro. The breathy laugh that falls out into the space between them that’s filled with so much warmth and affection... 

 

Before Shiro realizes what she’s doing, her body is leaning forward. She brushes a dry kiss against the healed cut. A heady rush sweeps through her. Dizzily, Shiro notes how warm Keith’s skin is against her lips.

 

_ Wait _ .

 

She pulls back sharply, heat popping in her cheeks as she realizes what she’s done. Wide blue eyes are staring up at him. Keith’s lips are parted in an “o” of surprise. She looks as blown away as Shiro feels. A mess of emotions sweep through Shiro - embarrassment, panic, alarm. She needs to explain herself, tell Keith that that didn’t mean... it wasn’t...she...

 

They jump guiltily as the curtain is pulled away. The nurse’s cool eyes take them both in before she quirks a curious eyebrow. “Everything alright in here?” she asks.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Their words bleed into each other. The nurse however, doesn’t seem convinced. She level a long gaze at them both. It’s the kind of motherly scrutiny that makes Shiro squirm guiltily and bite down on her tongue. Before she winds up confessing, she’s on her feet with a hurried apology. 

 

Without meeting Keith’s surprised eyes, Shiro murmurs, “I’ll see you at dinner,” and hurries out the door.

 

Hopefully by then Shiro will have figured out a way to be in Keith’s company without turning red as a tomato because oh  _ God _ . She can’t believe Matt was right! How long has she been nurturing this crush on Keith? Since how long have these feelings been there? And how did she  _ miss them _ ?

 

Shiro presses her palm to her mouth, pausing in the middle of the hallway as she remembers the silky smooth touch of Keith’s skin against her lips. Feels her knees grow weak when she remembers the way Keith had looked at her in the wake of that kiss. Underneath that sheer disbelief, there had been something else. Something that Shiro  _ wants  _ to say was hope.

 

With her heart thudding away against her rib cage, Shiro whispers, “I like Keith.”

 

It’s a scary confession to make, even to herself. Shiro’s fingers drag against her bottom lip as her hand drops away to her side. The hallway is silent. Someone passes by on the other end, coughing dryly as they walk by. She’s in love with her best friend and the world hasn’t collapsed.

 

Maybe there’s hope for her yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the prompt was "freedom" and this more like... NOT having the freedom to do something so. prompt inversion is the prompt fill?

It was hopeless.

 

Shiro buries her head deeper into her knees and tries not to sigh for the nth time as she waits for Matt to find her hiding in the depths of the Garrison library. Her feelings towards Keith were doomed to be unrequited, it’s a fact she needs to come to terms with. 

 

_ So much for figuring out how to tell her I feel _ .

 

She’s not sure why it’s hit her this hard. She’s known for before, the early days of their friendship, that Keith’s here to graduate and go to space. Keith’s focused on achieving her goal and nothing more. Romance has been the very last thing on her mind. 

 

Shiro had known this. 

 

And yet she’d still allowed herself to nurture the tiny flame of hope that  _ maybe  _ she’s different. Because Keith values her so much, she’d consider Shiro an exception. That that kiss in the clinic had made enough of an impression on Keith that... that something would have changed...

 

With a another deep exhale, Shiro mutters, “I was such an idiot.”

 

All those contemplative, thoughtful looks she’d caught Keith shooting her way in the days after the kiss hadn’t had any deeper meaning behind them. Shiro had gotten ahead of herself like a fool. Keith had probably just wondered what’d gotten into Shiro that she’d gotten overly friendly in the way she had. 

 

Whatever the truth was, whatever Keith had been thinking in the days after the kiss, Shiro’s certain of one thing: Keith certainly hadn’t stopped thinking Shiro as anything more than a friend.

 

Bitter frustration rises up, bubbling acidic against the back of her tongue. Nausea threatens to choke her as heat roils in her stomach. Shiro swallows the bile down but the lump in her throat remains. She tightens her jaw and tells herself to get over it.

 

_ Stop being such a little idiot _ , she tells herself sternly.  _ So what if you overheard her telling Anderson that she doesn’t like anyone and has no plans to date anyone. Get a grip. _

 

Shiro raises her head, letting it fall back against the bookshelf with a small thunk. Closing her eyes, she tries her favorite breathing exercises to try and center herself. Inhale, hold, exhale. 3, 5, 7. Shiro repeats the pattern, over and over again until a dull, static feeling takes over. 

 

Her limbs and mind feel heavy with sleep when her comms. device gently beeps. Her heavy eyelids open halfway, clumsy hands pulling the slim device out of her pants pocket. Shiro unlocks the device and pulls up the latest received message.

 

It’s from Matt. 

 

_ Keith’s asking where you’re at. Should I tell her you’re at the library or do you still need alone time?  _

 

She scrubs a weary hand down her face, hating the way her heart soars. Shiro can imagine the concerned pouty expression Keith’d sported as she’d searched for Shiro around campus. She can almost hear the quiet way in which she’d ask Matt where Shiro was. 

 

_ You’ve got it so bad _ , Matt’s amused voice tells her from the back of her head.

 

Shiro ignores it, typing back to ask where Matt and Keith are. As she waits for the reply, she decides that it  _ would  _ be best to repress her feelings. Shove them away inside a locked box and throw away the key. She’s got her own set of goals, just like Keith. Shiro can’t afford to get distracted through romance either.

 

She pulls a face because that means she’ll have to pretend being  _ just  _ friends with Keith. No more avoiding her like this (because that will surely worry Keith and raise all kinds of red flags) and so many torturous moments shared because “We’re friends, aren’t we? Isn’t this what friends so?”

 

Shiro’s no stranger to compromise, or to denying herself what she wants for the greater good. You don’t get to where she is without either of those skills. But this kind of compromise? This kind of denial? It feels awful. 

 

_ Lab 3,  _ Matt’s reply comes back.  _ Keith said she needed some extra help with this weeks lab report. _

 

Ah, so that’s why Keith had been looking for her. Shiro sighs, typing back that she’s on her way before putting her phone away.

 

How is she supposed to control how she feels anyways? There’s no way Shiro can stop her heart from rising in hope when Keith seeks her out, excitedly talking about the progress she’d made academically thanks to Shiro and Matt’s tutoring. How will she tell herself to remain unaffected when Keith is upset or sad? It will be the greatest struggle not to give into the urge to comfort Keith and bring her smile back.

 

It just isn’t possible to contain her emotions in the way that she needs too. And yet, Shiro must try. If she wants to preserve her friendship with Keith, then this has to be done. She needs to put on a brave face, stop avoiding Keith, and... pretend that all they are, is friends.

 

_ Better to be friends than nothing at all. _

 

Shiro nods to herself as she shifts, sitting cross legged while she digs through her bag. Between the choice of suppressing her emotions and losing Keith’s friendship, Shiro will take the hard road and try to keep her emotions under check. She’d rather constantly second guess if she’d crossing the friend line instead of the alternative. 

 

_ Maybe these feelings will go away this way too,  _ Shiro realizes as she checks her reflection in the compact mirror.  _ It’s a long shot but who knows.  _

 

_ And maybe Capt. Diggory’ll turn over a new leaf and stop being such a hardass on everyone during PT.  _

 

That’s another thought she ruthlessly squishes. Harsh realism isn’t what she needs right now. 

 

She fixes her hair, redoing her hair into a neat ponytail before heading to the nearest bathroom. Once she’s washed her face and reapplied her gloss, Shiro will go find Matt and Keith and act like nothing's wrong. Like nothing has changed. Like she isn’t hopelessly crushing on her best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Here’s the big problem in crushing on your best friend: you’re always wondering if the you’re managing to _really_ keep your feelings hidden. Suddenly the lines between friendly behavior and flirting become ambiguous. You’re unable to objectively tell if you haven’t accidentally given away your feelings.

 

Suddenly you’re just not sure how to act around your crush. It’s frustrating and scary and just. A _huge_ problem. One Shiro doesn’t need given that she’s recently applied to be the pilot of the Kerberos mission slated for next year. The last thing she needs is to be constantly distracted about how she should act around Keith.

 

Speaking of which.

 

Gingerly and with too much care, Shiro hefts herself up into the space behind Keith on the red and white hoverbike. She accepts the helmet Keith’s holding out, strapping it into place as she asks, “Where we going?”

 

“Some place special,” is Keith’s cryptic answer.

 

Shrugging, Shiro thinks, _okay_. She’s pulled the same line on Keith a couple of times before. “So long as we’re back by curfew.”

 

“That’s _hours_ away.” There’s a fond “You worry wart,” buried underneath the three words. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back long before that. Hold on tight.”

 

 _On the other hand,_ Shiro thinks wryly as Keith tells her to hop on. _Also a big problem, having to be in extremely close quarters with your crush._

 

Shiro tells herself the reason why her heart is racing is because it’s been a long time since she’s been on a hoverbike. _Not_ because her entire front of pressed flush against Keith’s back. And it’s _definitely_ not because she can feel the underside of Keith’s breasts pressing against her arm.

 

_God. This is going to come back and bite me in the butt so bad._

 

If she doesn’t have another erotic dream tonight about being tucked away in bed, kissing Keith, riding her thigh, Shiro will be _shocked_ . If not that dream, it’s going to be something else. Just. Her brain is going to take this new information and will torture Shiro will it. Shiro _knows_ it.

 

She’s grateful for the fact that her helmet isn’t the kind with a visor. This way, she can press her cheek against Keith’s shoulder and just enjoy the ride. She keeps her eyes closed, focusing every bit of her attention onto Keith. Shiro commits to memory the slimness of Keith’s waist, the feel of her shifting muscles against her body. The quick squeeze Keith gives her hand before warning, “Hang on, there’s no more road to go on.”

 

_Huh?_

 

Sleepily, Shiro raises her head and blinks at the rocky landscape. They’re deep in the desert, Keith skillfully guiding the bike through a corridor so tall the sun is cut off from their view. The shade is welcome relief however.

 

She slackens her grip, resting her hands on Keith’s hips as she leans back to admire the view. It’s raw and simple beauty - the streak of clear blue sky between sandy cliffs. It’s like a river in the sky. Shiro grins, taking in a deep breath of the hot desert air before returning to her previous position.

 

“Are we there yet?”

 

“Almost.”

 

Once they’re through the cliffs, Keith takes a lazy turn to their right. Shiro looks around them, wondering what’s out here. What kind of a special place could be out here this deep in the desert. It’s not surprise rock climbing is it? Shiro enjoys outdoor activities as much as the next person but that might be too much for her too...

 

She squints thoughtfully at the horizon when she spots an unusual shape in the distance. It doesn’t look like a giant boulder. It isn’t like any tree. It looks like a man-made structure. A home? This far out? It can’t be.

 

But it is. It’s a little shack out in the middle of nowhere.

 

It’s a small, frail looking thing built entirely out of wood. It looks distinctly shabby, what with the broken porch rail and patched up roof. One good gust of wind and this shack’s going to be on its way to Kansas if you ask her.

 

As Keith slows the bike down next to the shack, Shiro asks, “What is this place?”

 

“My dad left it to me.”

 

Shiro’s head whips back to stare incredulously at the other girl. “Your foster dad?”

 

“My real dad.”

 

“Wow...” Shiro looks back at the shack with a new set of questions. Did Keith’s dad make this himself? Also, why make this all the way out here? Come to think of it, isn’t it a little peculiar to set up a place to live within a day’s drive of the Galaxy Garrison?

 

 _Maybe he was a cadet there,_ Shiro muses as she slides off the hoverbike and onto her feet.

 

Keith drops down next to her, a small cloud of dust rising around her white and red boots. “Come on,” she says as she holds her hand out for Shiro’s helmet. “I’ll show you around.”

 

It’s a short tour. The bulk of the space on the inside is taken up by the living room. The bedroom is just big enough to fit a double bed and nightstand in. The kitchen, if one can even call it that, is a countertop, an empty space for a mini fridge and microwave, and a sink. The bathroom is more of an outhouse, right next to a rusted up generator.

 

“Does it work?” Shiro asks, crouching down to check.

 

Keith nods, “Yeah. But I try not to spend a lot of nights out here. It gets too lonely.”

 

She can’t help but smile a little at that. “I’m sorry, but did I just hear miss loner say that a place can get too lonely for her?” She can’t help but tease Keith, nudging her knee with her elbow.

 

Keith gently kicks her butt for that joke but also offers Shiro a hand up. “Shut up. It’s different out here.”

 

“How’s that?” Shiro asks, accepting the offer and letting Keith help her up. She lets her fingers drag against Keith’s palm as she lets go, sighing internally at how they’re both wearing gloves.

 

Dark blue eyes turn speculative, haunting almost as they peer out into the desert. “It feels like you’re the only person left in the world.” Keith finally says softly. “It’s scary and sad at the same time.”

 

Shiro follows her gaze, eyes sweeping over the emptiness around them. It’s hard to fully understand but...

 

“I think I get it,” she says softly. Keith shoots her a grateful smile that turns Shiro’s insides into pudding. Clearing her throat, Shiro asks, “But I bet the night view is unbeatable.”

 

Keith’s expression lights up immediately. “It is! It’s so clear, it’s almost magical. If you lie down on the ground and look up, you feel like you can almost touch the stars. You look at the sky and you realize that you never expected there to be _this_ many stars.”

 

“It sounds amazing.”

 

Her bright gaze pins Shiro in place. It’s like touching electricity, seeing the hopefulness in Keith’s eyes. And then she takes hold of Shiro’s hand and sets Shiro’s core on fire.

 

“You could see it for yourself if you wanted. You could spend the night with me here.”

 

Shiro blinks in surprise, hating the way she feels a blush forming in her cheeks. “What?”

 

“We could camp out! Have a sleepover or something, watch the stars, and just... I don’t know. Enjoy ourselves.” Keith’s enthusiasm is adorable. It tugs on Shiro’s heart strings and makes her want to sing in agreement. The logical part of her brain tells her this is a _bad_ idea. Spending the night alone with the girl she likes? Is going to be _torturous_.

 

Noticing her hesitation, Keith’s good mood begins to dip. “Unless,” she says, letting go of Shiro’s hand, “you don’t want too. It’s okay.”

 

Shiro shakes her head before she realizes what she’s doing. Her mouth runs away from her, saying, “No! I do want too! I’m just. Worried. Because won’t it get really cold out here at night?”

 

“It does but this time of year it’s not _that_ bad. I mean, it’s manageable.”

 

Nodding , Shiro finds herself agreeing. Keith’s smile could rival the sun in that moment, that’s how happy she is. Even though she knows she’s set herself up for a rough night, Shiro smiles for the rest of the visit as Keith excitedly talks about an upcoming meteor shower she was going to view from here and how they can watch it together now.

 

“I can’t wait,” Shiro says with complete honesty as Keith stops. Keith smiles into the desert, hands tucked away inside her pants. They stand next to the hoverbike, taking the serene view in before a thought occurs to Shiro. “Hey Keith?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Why’d you bring me here?”

 

Keith looks away immediately, a ruddy red flush popping to life in the center of her cheeks. Amazed, Shiro stares at the color and the bashful way in which Keith scrubs the back of her neck. Is Keith... Is Keith feeling _shy_?

 

“I don’t like it when you’re sad.”

 

Shy blue eyes dart towards her before flying away. The split second in which their eyes meet however, is long enough for Shiro to catch how utterly flustered Keith feels in this moment.

 

“And you’ve been sad a lot lately and I thought... I thought this might help. You said that coming to a place where no one’s around and no one knew about helped you feel better. So I thought... I thought I’d share this with you. So that you’d have another place to come and recharge when you need too.”

 

Touched, Shiro’s not sure what to say. A part of her feels embarrassed that she’d been _that_ transparent that Keith had picked up on her mood. But the larger part of her is singing in elation.

 

She places her hand on Keith’s shoulder and gives it a warm squeeze. “Thank you Keith.”

 

Earnest eyes turn towards her. “Did it help?”

 

Shiro smiles and nods, “It did. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

 

“You’re welcome.”


	6. Chapter 6

“You just need to neaten the undercut,” Shiro reassures Keith, watching her worried expression in the floor length mirror. She’s seated on her study chair with her largest towel pinned around her shoulders like a shabby cape. As she curls her bare toes, the newspaper they’ve placed on the floor crinkles. 

 

Keith stands behind her, looking incredibly uncertain as she looks between Shiro’s head and the electric clippers in her hair. Shiro’s tied the long strands of her hair up into a messy bun, giving Keith ample room to work cleanly. But Keith’s looking like Shiro’s just asked her to ride a horse blindfolded.

 

The other girl shifts nervously from one foot to another. Dark blue eyes meet hers in the mirror before Keith asks, once again, probably for good measure, “You’re  _ sure  _ you want me doing this? I’m sure there’s someone else you could ask. Someone who knows how to cut hair.”

 

Shiro laughs. “It’s not cutting my hair it’s getting rid of the fuzz. Anyone can do it.”

 

“And you can’t do this yourself because...?”

 

There’s a helpless kind of hopefulness in Keith’s question. Like she’s hoping Shiro will realize the error of her ways, take the clippers, and fix her do herself. Loathe as she is to do it, Shiro has to shatter Keith’s hope.

 

“Because last time I tried to shave the fuzz off, I ruined the lines at the back. After that, I always ask someone to help.”

 

“But why  _ me _ ?”

 

“Because I trust you.”

 

It’s only part of the truth. The rest of it is that Shiro’s a masochist. She just wants to know what Keith’s soft touch would feel against her hairline, what her fingers would feel like raking through her long hair. She’s also selfish, wanting to spend more time alone with Keith. She’s grateful for Matt’s friendship and company but sometimes? She wants it to be just her and Keith. Just the pair of them, hanging out, enjoying themselves. With no Matt making pointed looks at the back of Keith’s head urging Shiro to  _ stop  _ pining and  _ make a move, Shirogane _ !

 

“You trust me to buzz your hair in a straight line?” Keith asks in confusion.

 

Shiro laughs again, a lot louder and a  _ lot  _ longer this time due to the adorably puzzled expression Keith is sporting. “Yep, exactly.”

 

Mumbling something that sounds close to “‘s your funeral,” Keith’s fingertips gently press against the back of her skull. 

 

“Take your time,” Shiro says as she closes her eyes, chin against her collarbone.

 

Keith turns the clippers on and time slows to a halt. There’s nothing but the comforting sensation of Keith’s fingertips applying pressure, the device vibrating against her skin, and Shiro soaking in the quiet between them. It’s cozy. Shiro’s brain is stuck neck deep in a molasses thick fog when Keith asks, “Hey Shiro, can I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Why’d you keep your hair long with this cut. You could have gone for a more traditional undercut, right? So why let this hair,” Keith gently taps the bun, “grow this long?”

 

“I wanted a change and the hair dresser said it’d suit me. I just listened to him,” Shiro shrugs. It’s the explanation she gives to everyone when they ask about her unique hairstyle. But there’s a second part to it. The part only she and the hair dresser know about.

 

She bites her lip, chewing on the flesh as she wonders how to say the next part with the minimal amount of self consciousness. 

 

“Truth is, the hair dresser wanted to cut the rest of my hair short too. But I didn’t let him. I like my long hair too much.”

 

Keith’s fingers nudge her head to the right. “Yeah?”

 

She licks her dry lips before confessing, “It’s the only feminine thing about me now.”

 

Shiro’s always been a tall girl, which in itself wouldn’t have been a ‘bad’ thing but she was also large statured. She wasn’t stereotypically girly. The best compliment she could hope was a fond “You’re such a big girl” or “Oh you’re so handsome!”. Being told she was pretty or beautiful was something she could only dream about.

 

The only reason she feels she didn’t develop deeper self esteem issues was because she was part of the girls wrestling team since middle school and that kept her motivated. But otherwise... yeah. There’s not a lot about her that’s “girly” - not her height, her muscles, or the way she’s stronger than the average male cadet.

 

“I wouldn’t say  _ that _ ,” Keith mumbles.

 

Shiro’s eyes fly up to look at Keith but before she completes the journey, Keith’s fingers are harshly shoving her head down. “Hey! Do you  _ want  _ me to spoil your haircut? Stay still!”

 

“Sorry,” Shiro stammers. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“By what?”

 

“What you just said.”

 

“Oh.” Keith dusts some short hair off from behind Shiro’s ear before she distractedly explains, “Your hair isn’t the only feminine thing about you. You’re  _ pretty  _ girly. You do your nails, you wear gloss, you do your hair up in all kinds of styles. It doesn’t matter that you’re as tall as you are and muscular. You’re still gorgeous.”

 

The casual flood of compliments set her face on fire. Shiro is sure her heart’s going to jump out of her throat singing some cheesy love song  _ any  _ second now. Shiro bashfully twists her fingers in her lap as she asks, “You think so?”

 

“I know so. You know who’s not a girly-girl? Me. Chapstick is the closest thing to make-up I’ve used and I’ve  _ never  _ let my hair grow longer than my shoulders.”

 

Shiro tries to look at Keith’s reflection at that. “How come? You’ve got great hair! I bet it’d look amazing if it was long.”

 

He catches the tail end of an annoyed eyeroll. “It’s a pain in the butt. I’ve seen how long it takes for your hair to dry  _ and  _ how much care you take. It’s not for me.”

 

“I still think it’d look good on you.”

 

Before Keith has her tilting her head to the left, Shiro catches sight of pink dusting Keith’s cheeks. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

 

The conversation trails off into an odd silence. It felt like both of them were avoiding each others gaze while awkwardly shuffling around, studying the floor as they tried to collect themselves.

 

It’s finally Shiro who breaks the silence to ask, “So uh. I heard Erica asked you out to the dance.”

 

There’s two questions Shiro’s been holding back from asking since she’d first heard through the rumor mill that Erica Kirkman had asked Keith out. She’s been holding both questions in for almost a day now, anxious to know what Keith’s answer will be. Her heart pounds nervously in her ears, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

 

“She did,” Keith blows a quick exhale across Shiro’s nape before rubbing it clean with the end of the towel. “I turned her down though.”

 

“Can I ask why?”

That’s the bigger question. The one whose answer is going to make it break what little hope Shiro’s been nurturing deep down inside of her heart. 

 

She holds her breath as Keith makes a face, “Dances and parties aren’t my thing.”

 

“So... you would have said no even if a guy asked you out?”

 

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter who asks me out, I’m not going to the dance,  _ period _ .”

 

“Oh...” 

 

Relief floods her. Is it okay if one of the takeaways from this is that Keith seems open to the idea of dating girls? On the other hand, it could also just mean that Keith still doesn’t want to date anyone. 

 

“What were you planning on doing that night then?”

 

“I was going to study a little. Maybe hit the hay early. I dunno. Just not dress up and go to some dumb dance with weak punch.” The clipper buzzes past behind Shiro’s right ear when Keith asks, “What about you? I bet you’re going.”

 

With a tiny laugh, Shiro admits, “Nope. I’m uhh. I’m not going either.”

 

Keith turns the clippers off because asking in a tone of heavy incredulity, “ _ What _ ?”

 

She can’t run a hand through her hair or twirl the ends around her fingers, so Shiro shrugs helplessly. Looking up, she finds herself meet Keith’s startled gaze in the mirror. “Is that so weird?”

 

“A little! You’re  _ you _ ! I thought a bunch of guys and girls had asked you out.”

 

Slightly embarrassed, Shiro looks away grumbling, “It was only two people, Keith.” 

 

“But... why? I thought you liked this kind of stuff?”

 

The truth is she’d been planning to ask  _ Keith _ to go with her. Just as friends but... together. But now that she knows that Keith doesn’t seem interested in attending the dance... Shiro doesn’t want to make her the offer. Because Keith will push her own discomfort and desires down in favor of Shiro. And Shiro doesn’t want that.

 

So she shrugs and lies a little white lie. “I do but I need to prepare for the next part of the Kerberos selection process. The rest is only two weeks away and I’ve got four books to finish by then.”

 

When Shiro looks up, she’s relieved to note that Keith’s attention has shifted away from her. Rather, she’s contemplatively staring at the clippers. She turns the device back on, returning to her task before she asks, with a touch of hesitancy, “So you’ll be studying?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is it... Could we... Do you want to hang out with me that night?”

 

It’s an utterly unexpected question. So much so that Shiro’s head flies up and she gets her ear flicked  _ hard _ for the sudden jerk. “Careful! I almost buzzed your hair off!”

 

Cupping her ear, Shiro turns in her seat to look up at Keith, “What’d you say? I don’t think I heard you over the clippers.”

 

Firm hands have her turning back to face the mirror. Keith makes zero attempts to hide her pink cheeks as she asks again, with twice as much shyness, “Do you want to hang out with me on the night of the dance? We could study together and maybe do something else later?”

 

Giddily, Shiro forces herself not to nod in excitement. But a side effect of holding her enthusiasm down physically is that her voice comes out  _ far  _ too loud and  _ way  _ too happy. “I’d love that! We could grab some snacks and watch a movie?”

 

There’s only a small patch of hair left to neaten and Shiro’s eager to be done. She wants to hop out of her chair and do...  _ something  _ to burn this happy, nervous energy that’s bubbling up in her. The most she can do right now is excitedly curl and uncurl her toes with happiness with Keith shyly nods, “I’d like that yeah.”

 

And then. 

 

And then Shiro hears something that makes her heart trip over itself.

 

“It’s a date.”

 

Her jaw drops, mind scrambling because she didn’t... Keith didn’t just... But when their eyes meet in the mirror, the clippers turning off. Keith’s eyes have a rare bashfulness in them.  _ Holy shit _ , Shiro thinks in amazement.  _ She really said date. What the hell is going on? _

 

“I’ll just...” Keith gestures at the floor as she takes a step towards the door, pink flush having deepened into red. The color has spread from ear to ear and is working its way across the rest of her face. Incredulity fills Shiro until she’s overflowing with the emotion because  _ what is going on?  _ “I’ll go grab a vacuum cleaner from Ms. Angelo. I’ll be right back.” 

  
As soon as Keith’s closed the door behind her, Shiro asks, heart thumpa-thumping deep inside her chest, “What was  _ that _ ?”


End file.
